


My Father's Eyes

by Renata Lord (snowlight)



Category: Thor (2011), Thor (Comics)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowlight/pseuds/Renata%20Lord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for norsekink prompt: Hel's POV on her father's fall into hatred and madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Father's Eyes

My father’s eyes were green as envy, as the bitterest poison vine, as the time-worn tarnish on silver.

But I was told that it was not always so. Many many years ago his eyes were green as emeralds, as the crest of waves, as the loveliest leaves of Yggdrasil. He was a prince of Asgard then, well-loved and beautiful to behold. His horse trotted through gold-paved streets, upon white rose petals falling like rain: A radiant prince for a radiant city, whose high walls were as impenetrable as fate.

When Father finally brought down those walls, his eyes were red as carnelians, as blood lust, as the most terrible sunset. The raging flames within that city were reflected in his eyes, yet I was hopelessly cold. The runes on his blue skin made my bones rattle. It was my first and only time seeing him as a Jotunn, and I did not want to believe that I came from the same flesh and the same blood.

That night and for many nights after, I stood before a mirror testing the truth of my form. When I found that no measure of will or coercion could wake my Jotunn bloodline, I was both relieved and ashamed. Yet my father was the Father of Monsters, and what could I be but a monstrosity?

He and I did not meet again until the end that was long promised. For him I left my abode, the ninth of the Nine Worlds. He had no time for me save for one long searching look, as if he wanted to truly see me for the first time.

"You are my daughter," he said. "You have my eyes."

*

My father’s eyes are green as emeralds, as the crest of waves, as the loveliest leaves of Yggdrasil.

He closes his eyes as I cradle his body in my arms, upon this throne of bones.

He is home.


End file.
